


Your Voice Rings Forever in my Ears

by punkrockgaia



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Angst, Death, Gen, Loss, M/M, Sadness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-02
Updated: 2013-12-12
Packaged: 2018-01-03 06:57:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1067421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punkrockgaia/pseuds/punkrockgaia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What do you keep when you lose everything?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning of the End

**Author's Note:**

> I swear I want Cecil and Carlos to be happy, but my plot bunnies keep leading me down sad roads...
> 
> Based on a tumblr post by Thethespace coyote. Thanks!

Carlos had known that death was always around the corner in Night Vale; he'd known it almost from the moment he'd set foot in the strange little city. People died all the time -- died or disappeared. They turned into dark clouds of negative energy, got onto the subway never to return, were shot to bits by tiny people in a tiny underground city under a bowling alley. He'd made his peace with the fact that he might be crushed or murdered or set on fire at any time. It just had never occurred to him that even in Night Vale, sometimes people just... got sick. No explosion, no dark forces, not even the shriek of twisted metal. 

It started with cruel proximity to their wedding -- maybe six months after, though Carlos had spent many a night wracking his memory for earlier signs that something might have been wrong. Try as he might, he could recall nothing. He had been blinded, first by love and then by the comfort of familiarity. Even after the signs had started making themselves known, he could see that he'd been in denial. 

Cecil was fine, he was just tired because they just hadn't been sleeping much since the wedding, ho ho. 

Cecil was fine, he just needed to work out more so that he wouldn't get so out of breath when he climbed the stairs to their apartment or hurried into the booth for his broadcast. 

Cecil was fine, he'd just been losing weight because he'd _been_ working out more.

Cecil was fine. Cecil had a cold. Bronchitis at the worst. That was why he was coughing so much.

Then one day Cecil had a coughing fit in the bathroom, spit into the sink, and Carlos could see the droplets of bright red blood.

He scrunched up his face. "Ceese?"

"Yes, my wonderful husband?"

"How long have you been coughing up blood?"

Cecil blushed and put his hand over his mouth. "Oh. I was hoping you wouldn't see that. Not very attractive, is it?"

"Forget attractive, I'm worried! No, not worried -- concerned. How long?"

"Oh, I don't know, a week, a week and a half, maybe. Why?"

"It's not a normal thing, and we need to check it out."

For the first time, Cecil looked worried, too. He bit his lower lip. "What do you think it is?"

Carlos wrapped him in an embrace. "It's probably nothing. I mean, you've been coughing a lot, maybe you just ruptured a small blood vessel. But, you know, it could be something more serious, like tuberculosis or.... I don't know, I'm not a doctor. The point is, we need to find out so that you can get better."

"Okay. I'll make an appointment with Teddy Williams as soon as the bowling alley's open."

"No offense to Teddy, but I think I'd rather you saw someone who won't be distracted by the shoe rental counter."

"Night Vale General, then?"

Carlos suppressed a shudder. NVGH, though supposedly an actual hospital filled with actual medical professionals, was not a confidence-inspiring place. Sure, it looked just like a regular hospital, but a disconcerting number of the patients there came out with body parts removed for no reason, and an even more disconcerting number came out with extra body parts they didn't need. Were they the same body parts? If not, where were the new body parts coming from? If so, how were there more? It flew in the face of supply and demand.

"Uh, you know, Cheryl down at the lab is a biologist, and she just got some new equipment in that she would love to try out. Why don't we kill two birds with one stone and have her run a few tests?"

Cecil frowned. "Killing birds with stones is really hard, and I don't see what that has to do with my cough. Are the machines powered by bird corpses?"

Carlos sighed. "No, no, that's not what I meant. It's an expression. What I meant was, it's kind of a win-win situation. She gets to use her new equipment, and we get to feel better, knowing that there's nothing seriously wrong with you. What do you say?"

"Oh, why didn't you just say that? Yes, that would be fine. When do you want me there, next week sometime?"

"I think we want to look at it sooner rather than later. I'll talk to her today and set something up, all right?" 

"Well, okay. As long as it doesn't get in the way of the show. Or league night."

Carlos shook his head. "No, I'm sure it'll be in and out and nothing to worry about."

****

That morning, over coffee, Carlos casually broached the idea to Cheryl that he might want to have Cecil come down and get a few blood tests done, maybe an x-ray or two. Cheryl, a small, grey-haired woman with a rebellious streak of pink in her bangs and round brass glasses on her deep brown eyes, set her coffee mug down on the lab table and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Oh, thank God. I was going to say something if you weren't. He hasn't been looking well at all, has he?"

Carlos felt himself bristle. "I'm sure he's fine. I just figured we'd do you a favor and let you try out that fancy new equipment you bought on our grant."

Cheryl looked down at her feet and pursed her lips. "Sorry. I didn't mean --"

"I know you didn't, but seriously. He's fine."

"Sure. But, uh, can he come over today? I'm, uh, really interested in trying out the equipment."

Carlos snorted. "No, he has his show. He's already at the station, I'm sure. Maybe I can convince him to come out tomorrow, but it'll be early."

"That's fine. I'll be here as early as you want."

Carlos nodded briskly, then left the area, then avoided her for the rest of the day. He didn't know why, but he felt very awkward around her all of a sudden. 

He listened to Cecil on the radio and tried to ignore how he struggled for enough air to complete long sentences.

****

Over dinner that night, Carlos distracted himself from the sight of Cecil pushing uneaten food around his plate by telling him that Cheryl wanted to see him the next morning. Cecil blinked at him and smiled wanly.

"Really? But I have to be into the station early, like nine a.m., for a staff meeting. How much time is this going to take?"

Carlos shrugged. "I don't know, but it can't be long. I bet if you showered and stuff beforehand, you could get to the lab at seven or so, and then make it to the station in time for coffee and quinoa bagels."

"Well, okay. I guess so."

Carlos smiled, then grasped Cecil's hand and brought it to his lips, kissing the knuckles softly. "Thank you, _mi amor_."

"It's okay. Although, uh, if I'm going to get up that early, I'd better get to bed soon. And you know I don't sleep well on my own."

Carlos continued to kiss the hand clasped in his own, but added some tongue and nibbles into the mix, working his way down to the soft skin of Cecil's wrist. When it earned him a low moan, he got to his feet and pulled his spouse up to join him.

"Well, then, I guess I'd better make sure that you can sleep well, huh?" Cecil giggled in response, and they sauntered to the bedroom, hand-in-hand, dinner forgotten on the table.

That night, they made love **ravenously.**


	2. The Last Beam of Morning Sunlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Assessment, diagnosis, denial.

They got up bright and early the next morning, and their mood was bubbly. A brittle, near-hysterical kind of bubbly, but bubbly nonetheless. They giggled and kissed in the shower, snapped their towels at each other while they were drying off, jostled for position in front of sink while they shaved and brushed their teeth. They joked and punned, talking about everything but their plans for the morning, about why they both felt a growling pit of unsettledness in their stomachs that had nothing to do with Big Rico's new soy flour breadsticks. They both got into Cecil's old, beat-up sedan and rattled their way down to the lab.

Cheryl was waiting for them when they got there.

"Hi, there, Cecil. How've you been?" She drew him into a warm hug. Though he'd never admit it, it bothered Carlos ever so slightly that even his friends seemed to like Cecil better. 

"I'm all right, Cheryl. Thanks for asking! I love your hair. So fun!"

"Thank you so much! Great show yesterday."

"Oh, thank _you_. I was worried that the piece on invisible corn blight might have been a little dull..."

"No, no, not at all, I mean, it was serious journalism, so it wasn't --"

Carlos made an exasperated, strangled noise. Cecil and Cheryl looked at him. "Can we pause the love fest and get on with things?"

Cheryl blushed. "Oh, of course. Sorry, just making conversation. Got carried away!"

Cecil patted her arm reassuringly. "That's okay, Cheryl. He's just being grumpy because he's got his head full of silly worries about me."

They walked over to a lab table, where Cheryl had some papers, a stethoscope, and other and sundry pieces of equipment neatly laid out. Carlos and Cecil sat down on one side of the table, and Cheryl sat on the other. She cleared her throat.

"So what's going on that's got your man so worked up that he can't be civil?"

Cecil looked abashed. "It's nothing, honestly, it's nothing. Just a little cough."

"And how long have you had this cough?"

"Oh, I don't know, a few months, I think."

"Hmm. That's kind of a long time. Any fever?"

"No. See, I told you, it's nothing."

"Is it getting better, worse, or staying the same?"

"Better, I think. Yes, definitely better."

Carlos snorted. "Are you kidding me? No, Cecil, it's getting worse. The other day you got winded and hacked up a lung in the Ralph's parking lot. And you didn't tell her about the blood."

Cheryl stopped writing with her Clearly-Not-A-Pen and looked up, eyebrows arching over her glasses. "Blood? What blood?"

Cecil rolled his eyes. "Oh, jeez. Cough up a little tiny bit of blood, and suddenly it's a big deal."

Cheryl frowned. "Actually, that kind of is a big deal. How long has that been going on?"

"A few weeks, three at the outside."

"What about other symptoms? How's your appetite been?"

"Meh. I don't know, I haven't been all that into food lately."

"Energy levels?"

"I've been a little tired, I guess. Mr. Romance here keeps me up late, though." Carlos blushed and pretended to be very interested in the floor tiles as Cecil elbowed him in the ribs and waggled his eyebrows. 

"Okay, so you've got a cough, hemoptysis -- that's the blood, loss of appetite, fatigue. Anything else? Any new aches and pains?"

"Oh, just my back."

"What about your back?"

"It's been a little sore lately. I've been thinking about asking Station Management for a new chair, but I try to stay out of their way as much as possible, so..."

Cheryl looked down at her list of symptoms, then up at Cecil and Carlos. "Okay, well, let's do a few tests, shall we?"

She picked up the stethoscope, walked around the table, and positioned herself behind Cecil. She stuck the earpieces in her ear and placed the diaphragm of the scope at the top left of Cecil's back.

"Okay, take a deep breath for me." She moved the diaphragm. "Okay, another one." She repeated the motion a few times, then frowned. "Hmm. That doesn't sound right. I'm no expert on lung sounds, but I'm not hearing much on the left."

Carlos leaned forward. "What does that mean, exactly?" Medical things had never been his forte.

"That's hard to say. It could be that Cecil has a collapsed lung. It could be that he's just really, really congested. It could be that I have a shitty stethoscope."

Carlos grasped Cecil's hand, tight. "How will we know?"

"Well, a chest x-ray would rule it out. I can even do one here. That FEMA money sure came in handy."

Cecil sighed. "Ugh, is that going to take long? I have a meeting to get to."

"No, it shouldn't take long, but I'd like it if you stuck around to get the results. If it is a collapsed lung, you're going to have to go to the hospital right away."

"I really can't miss the meeting. Anyway, it's not going to be anything."

"You have to promise me that if it's something serious, you'll go directly to the hospital. No meeting, no show, do not pass go, et cetera."

"Don't worry, I'll make him go," Carlos answered, kissing his husband on the temple.

"Then let's get to it, shall we?"

She led the two of them to a lead-shielded room in the back, where she had Cecil take off his shirt, then she positioned him in front of a glass plate, and she and Carlos left the room. She pressed a button on a panel, then opened the door and repositioned Cecil, closed the door, and took another x-ray. She did this a few more times, then moved to go back into the x-ray room. Carlos stopped her with a hand on her forearm. 

"Hey, Cheryl? What do you think is wrong with him?"

"I really don't want to speculate at this point. His symptoms, well, they could be a lot of things. It's not worth it to dwell on what it could be until we know more. Just promise me you'll take it seriously if it looks like it might be something bad."

"Of course."

"Are we done? Can I put my shirt back on?" Cecil's voice called from inside the room. "It's getting a bit chilly in here."

"Oh, yes, go ahead. You can get dressed and come on out," Cheryl called back. A moment later, Cecil opened the door, adjusting his cuffs.

"All right, I have _got_ to go now. The new disciplinary measures for missing mandatory meetings are... harsh."

"Okay, but keep your phone on, just in case, all right?"

"Oh, fine." Cecil planted a sweet kiss on his husband's lips, then waved cheerily and left the lab, whistling.

Cheryl turned to Carlos. "It'll take me a little while to develop the films. I'll let you know as soon as I'm ready, okay?"

"Sounds good. I've got to get some work done, anyhow." 

The lab slowly filled with other scientists as Carlos tried to log the data he'd collected regarding the house that didn't exist, but he was distracted. Every time he heard someone walk behind him, he'd jump and look around, but it was never Cheryl. Finally, after almost an hour, he'd had enough. What was taking so long?

He tried to walk casually, but he felt his knees quiver as he walked back to the tiny darkroom. The red light wasn't on, so he knocked on the door, opened it, and went inside. Cheryl had her back to him, looking at the films on a light box. When she heard the door open, she turned around. Her eyes were red and tears rolled down her cheeks. 

"It's bad," she whispered.


	3. The Dark Night of the Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anger and the consolation of bodies.

Exactly seven months, fourteen days, and twenty-three hours after their lives had changed at their wedding, Cecil and Carlos' lives changed again, this time into a blur of hospital waiting rooms and doctor's offices, of second and third and fourth opinions, each one worse than the last.

It was cancer. It was advanced. It had spread from lungs to lymph and to bone, possibly to liver, hopefully not to brain. The prognosis was bad. Carlos gave a shit about prognoses.

There wasn't much they could do, supposedly, but whatever was to be done had to start immediately. The first chemotherapy appointment was scheduled for the next day, early, and they were laying in the dark, not talking, not sleeping.

Carlos didn't feel any better about the Night Vale medical establishment than he had before Cecil's diagnosis. He wanted to whisk him away to a big city, one with a huge cancer center and all the cutting-edge technology available, but they were stuck. Cecil's health insurance didn't cover anything outside of Night Vale, and their marriage wasn't recognized anywhere else in the state, so he wasn't covered under Carlos'. They certainly couldn't afford treatment out-of-pocket, either. 

He was ignoring the fact that, according to everything he read, no treatment in the world would be likely to help much. Cecil would be the one to beat the odds. He had to be.

He turned onto his side to look at the man he loved in the sepia light of the moon. Cecil was lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling. Carlos put an arm around Cecil's shoulders, but was rebuffed when Cecil flinched and turned away from him.

Carlos slid next to him and held him tight. Cecil elbowed him in the ribcage, hard, then drove a heel into his kneecap. Even weakened as he was, years of surviving Night Vale had made him skilled at hand-to-hand combat, and Carlos retreated to the other side of the bed.

"HEY! What the ever loving fuck?"

For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of heaving breaths from the other side of the bed. Then Cecil's voice hissed out from under the covers.

"Do you have any fucking idea how much I hate you right now?"

"What? What the fuck?"

Cecil sat up, hair mussed, eyes darting wildly around the room. "You," he spat. "It's your Godsdamn fault. You made me go to the doctor. I was FINE."

Carlos paused for a moment, then laughed incredulously. "FINE? You were FINE?? It's my fault you have fucking cancer because I made you go to the doctor?"

He thudded back onto the mattress as Cecil landed on top of him, long strong fingers clutching painfully at his trapezius. 

"Yes. YES, you FUCKING ASSHOLE. It is ALL your FUCKING FAULT." He paused for a moment above Carlos, fury like he'd never seen blazing in his eyes. He bared his teeth and growled, then shuddered and collapsed. Carlos felt him sob against his shoulder. Frightened, tentative, he put his arm around him.

"Shh... It's going to be okay. It's going to be o-"

His words were cut off by the sudden, desperate crush of Cecil's lips against his own. He let himself be kissed, stroking his fingers down the knobbly crest of his husband's spine, sliding his palms down the sharp points of his pelvis, returned the kiss, felt his arousal swell. He didn't know if it was right or even sane, but it was what it was.

He rolled himself so that he lay on top of Cecil, cradling him in his arms like he might break. He kissed him again, then moved down to tongue at his earlobe, his jawline, his neck. He bit gently at the pulse fluttering like a hummingbird under his lips, earning him a sharp gasp. He continued his journey downward.

He kissed and licked his way across his husband's collarbone, down the fine blond hairs on his chest, to his newly-prominent ribcage. He felt a pang of guilt. How had he managed to deny the reality of Cecil's illness for so long? He pushed the feeling away. Now was not the time.

He moved down the silky tuft of hair that bisected Cecil's abdomen and nibbled at the so-soft skin of his belly, then pulled his pajama pants down from his hipbones, freeing his erection. 

"In sickness and in health," right?

Cecil moaned as he took him into his mouth. He loved the sounds his man made in bed, and he felt the hot electricity of lust pound through his bloodstream as he began to suck in earnest. He began to feel fine tremors run through Cecil's limbs and got ready to swallow when he was stopped by a clutching hand on the back of his head. 

"Please," Cecil breathed.

Carlos knew what he was asking for, and was more than happy to give it. He rolled off of him for just long enough to reach into the nightstand for the lube, then resumed his position on top of his husband. He lubed his fingers and gently slid them inside, enjoying watching him squirm and writhe in pleasure. He kept it up until he was sure he was ready, then lubed his cock and slid inside.

Cecil's back arched and he let out a sound that was somewhere between a gasp and a wail. He wouldn't last long. His hands were everywhere, tangling through Carlos' hair, playing over his face, scratching down his back, frantic. Carlos took the hint and started to thrust faster.

Guttural grunts began to escape Carlos' mouth with every jolt of his hips, mingling with Cecil's more melodic sounds. God, he could train his voice for years and never match the angelic noises his lover made without even trying.

He was getting close, now, too. That was good. He knew that simultaneous orgasms weren't actually important, but fuck it. Tonight he wanted them to get there together. 

He gripped Cecil's erection and started to pump. Cecil's hands tangled in the sheets and he threw his head back. Carlos was unable to resist the temptation, and he bit down on that long, lovely neck, hard enough to leave a mark. 

The sharp twinge of pain was all Cecil needed to fall over the edge, and he spasmed around Carlos as his cock jerked and twitched, spurting over the front of Carlos' t-shirt. Carlos followed him a fraction of a second later, pushing into him as deeply as he could with a shout of Cecil's name, a serpent of flame rising through his spine.

Well, _damn close_ to simultaneous, anyway.

He pressed his forehead to Cecil's, then kissed him. Cecil was shaking. 

"I'm so scared."

Carlos kissed him again. "I know. I'm scared, too. But it's going to be okay. You're going to beat this, Cecil Gershwin Palmer-Martinez."

Cecil took in a long, shuddering breath.

"You think so?"

"Yeah. I promise."


End file.
